The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7)

by Camilla Lackberg

  ‘Here,’ she said curtly, placing a folder in front of them.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Patrik. Gösta leaned forward, equally curious.

  ‘That’s Madeleine’s file. She’s one of the women who needed the kind of help that goes beyond what society can offer.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Patrik began leafing through the documents.

  ‘It means that we gave her help that isn’t considered legal.’ Leila stared at them resolutely. All sign of nervousness was gone, and it looked as if she were challenging them to object. ‘Some of the women who come to us have tried everything. And then we try everything. But these women and their children are threatened by men who don’t give a damn about the law, leaving us helpless. We have no way of protecting these women legally, so we help them to escape. To leave the country.’

  ‘What was the relationship between Madeleine and Mats?’

  ‘I didn’t know about it at the time, but afterwards I found out that they were having an affair. We spent a long time trying to resolve the situation for Madeleine and her kids. During that time, they must have fallen in love, which was strictly forbidden, of course. But as I said, I wasn’t aware of it then …’ She threw out her hands. ‘When I found out, I was terribly disappointed. Matte knew how important it was for me to prove that men are needed in this type of organization. And he knew that everyone’s eyes were on the Refuge, and that a lot of people hoped that we’d fail. I couldn’t understand why he’d betray the Refuge like that.’

  ‘What happened?’ asked Gösta. He took the file from Patrik.

  The air seemed to go out of Leila. ‘Things got worse and worse. Madeleine’s ex-husband kept finding out where she and the kids were staying. The police got involved, but that didn’t help matters. Finally Madeleine couldn’t take it any more, and we realized that the situation was intolerable. If she and her children were going to stay alive, they would have to leave Sweden. Leave their home, their family, their friends, everything.’

  ‘When did you make this decision?’ asked Patrik.

  ‘Madeleine came to see me right after Matte was attacked and asked us to help her. We had already come to more or less the same conclusion.’

  ‘What did Mats think about this?’

  Leila looked down at her desk. ‘We didn’t tell him. Everything was arranged while he was in hospital. When he came back to work, she was gone.’

  ‘Was that when you found out that they were having an affair?’ Gösta placed the file back on the desk.

  ‘Yes. Matte was inconsolable. He begged and pleaded for me to tell him where they’d gone. But I couldn’t do that. It would have put her and the children in danger if anyone found out where they were.’

  ‘Did you ever suspect that there was a connection between this and the assault on Mats?’ Patrik opened the folder and pointed to something written on one of the pages.

  Leila fidgeted with a paper clip before answering.

  ‘Of course the thought occurred to me. But Matte claimed there was no connection. And there wasn’t much we could do.’

  ‘We need to talk to her.’

  ‘That’s impossible,’ said Leila, shaking her head. ‘That would be much too dangerous.’

  ‘We’ll take all necessary precautions. But we have to talk to her.’

  ‘I’m telling you that’s impossible.’

  ‘I understand that you want to protect Madeleine, and I promise not to do anything that might put her at risk. I’m hoping that we can resolve this easily and quickly so that this,’ he pointed at the folder on the desk, ‘can remain just between us. If not, we’ll have to take up the matter with someone else.’

  Leila clenched her teeth, but she knew that she had no choice. With a single phone call Patrik and Gösta could bring down all the work that the Refuge was trying to accomplish.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do. But it will take time. Maybe until tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s all right. Just give us a call as soon as you know anything.’

  ‘Okay. On one condition: we do things my way. The lives of many other people are involved here – not just Madeleine and her children.’

  ‘We realize that,’ said Patrik. He and Gösta stood up and once again left the building to drive back to Fjällbacka.

  ‘Welcome, welcome!’ exclaimed Erling, beaming as he stood in the doorway. He was glad that Bertil Mellberg and his girlfriend Rita were able to come over to celebrate the occasion. He really did like Mellberg, whose pragmatic attitude towards life was very close to his own. The man was such a reasonable person to deal with.

  Having enthusiastically shaken Mellberg’s hand, he kissed Rita on the cheek. Then, just to be safe, he kissed her on the other cheek too. He wasn’t quite sure what the custom was in the southern lands, but surely he couldn’t go wrong with a double kiss. Vivianne came to greet their guests and help them hang up their coats. Mellberg handed their hostess a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine, and she thanked him as effusively as courtesy required, and carried both out to the kitchen.

  ‘Come in,’ said Erling, motioning them forward. As always, he was looking forward to showing off his home. He’d been forced to fight hard to keep the house after his divorce, but it had been worth all the trouble.

  ‘What a lovely home,’ said Rita, looking around.

  ‘You’ve certainly done well for yourself.’ Mellberg slapped Erling on the back.

  ‘I can’t complain,’ said Erling, handing a glass of wine to each of his guests.

  ‘So what’s for dinner?’ asked Mellberg. The lunch he’d had at Badis was still fresh in his mind, so if a meal of seeds and nuts was in store for them, they could always stop at the sausage stand on the way home.

  ‘Don’t worry, Bertil.’ Vivianne winked at Rita. ‘I’ve made an exception this evening and planned a high-carb meal just for your sake. But a few vegetables may have slipped in as well.’

  ‘I suppose I’ll survive,’ said Bertil, his laugh a little too hearty.

  ‘Shall we sit down?’ Erling put his arm around Rita and ushered her into the big, bright dining room. He couldn’t deny that his ex-wife had had good taste when it came to the decor. On the other hand, he was the one who had paid for everything, so the result could be considered his doing – which was what he often claimed.

  The appetizer was quickly dispatched, and Mellberg’s face lit up when he saw that the main course was a sizable portion of lasagne. Not until they were having dessert, and after a few pokes under the table from Erling, did Vivianne show off the ring on her left hand.

  ‘Oh my, is that what I think it is?’ exclaimed Rita.

  Mellberg squinted in an attempt to see what all the fuss was about. He finally noticed the shiny object on Vivianne’s ring finger.

  ‘Are the two of you engaged?’ Mellberg took Vivianne’s hand and studied the ring carefully. ‘Erling, you old rascal, you must have coughed up a small fortune for this.’

  ‘You can’t get something for nothing. But she’s definitely worth it.’

  ‘How splendid,’ said Rita, smiling warmly. ‘Congratulations to both of you.’

  ‘Yes, we need to celebrate. Don’t you have anything stronger so we could drink a toast in your honour?’ Mellberg looked with distaste at the glass of Baileys that Erling had poured him to accompany the dessert.

  ‘Hmm … I could probably find us some whisky.’ Erling got up and opened the large drinks cabinet. He set two bottles on the table and then took out four whisky glasses, which he placed next to them.

  ‘That one’s a real gem.’ Erling pointed to one of the bottles. ‘A Macallan, twenty-five years old. And it wasn’t cheap, I’ll tell you that.’

  He poured a shot in two of the glasses, then reached across the table and set one glass at his own place and the other at Vivianne’s. Then he put the cork back in and carefully returned the bottle with the expensive whisky to the drinks cabinet.

  Mellberg stared at him in astonishment.

  �
��What about us?’ he couldn’t help asking. Rita seemed to be thinking the same thing, even though she didn’t say it out loud.

  Erling came back to the table and blithely opened the second bottle. A Johnnie Walker Red Label, which Mellberg knew cost 249 kronor at the State Liquor Store.

  ‘It would be a waste to serve you the expensive whisky,’ said Erling. ‘You wouldn’t be able to really appreciate it.’

  With a cheerful smile, he poured the drinks and handed Mellberg and Rita each a glass. They stared in silence at their Johnnie Walker and then at the contents of Erling’s and Vivianne’s glasses. It was a completely different colour. Vivianne looked like she wanted to crawl under the rug.

  ‘Skål! And skål for us, darling!’ Erling raised his glass in a toast. Still mute with surprise, Mellberg and Rita did the same.

  A short time later they made their apologies and left. What a stingy bastard, thought Mellberg as they rode home in the taxi. That was a big blow to a promising friendship.

  The platform was deserted when they disembarked from the train. Nobody knew they were coming. Her mother would be in for a shock when they turned up, but Madeleine couldn’t warn her of their arrival. It was going to be risky enough for them to stay with her parents. She would have preferred not to involve her parents at all, but they had nowhere else to go. Eventually she was going to have to talk to certain people and try to explain things, and she promised herself that she would pay Mette back for the train tickets. She hated being indebted to anyone, but that was the only way they could come back to Sweden. Everything else would just have to wait.

  She didn’t dare think about what was going to happen next. At the same time, a sense of calm had come over her. It felt strangely comforting to be trapped in a corner, with no possibility of going anywhere. She had given up, and that was actually a relief. It took so much energy to flee and to fight, and she was no longer afraid for herself. It was only the children that caused her to hesitate, but she was going to do everything in her power to make him understand and forgive. He had never touched the children, and they would be fine, no matter what happened. At least that was what she had to tell herself. Otherwise she was doomed.

  They caught the number three tram at Drottningtorget. Everything was very familiar. The kids were so tired that they could hardly keep their eyes open, but they still pressed their noses against the window and stared out.

  ‘There’s the prison. Isn’t that the prison, Mamma?’ said Kevin.

  She nodded. Yes, they had just passed Härlunda Prison. After that she ran through the next tram stops in her mind: Solrosgatan, Sanatoriegatan, and then they would get out at Kålltorp. They almost missed their stop because she forgot to press the button. At the last second she remembered, and the tram slowed and then came to a halt to let them get off. The summer sky was still light at this hour of the evening, but the streetlamps had just come on. There were lights on in most of the windows, including her parents’ flat. Her heart pounded harder and harder the closer she came. She was going to see her mother again. And her father. Feel their arms around her and see their faces when they caught sight of their grandchildren. Faster and faster she walked, with the kids running valiantly after her, eager to visit their grandparents, whom they hadn’t seen in so long.

  At last they stood outside their door. Madeleine’s hand shook as she pressed the bell.

  FJÄLLBACKA 1871

  He was such a beautiful baby, and the birth had been surprisingly easy. Even the midwife had said as much when she wrapped him in a blanket and placed him at Emelie’s breast. A week later, she was still overwhelmed with happiness, and it felt as if her joy grew stronger with every minute.

  Dagmar was just as happy as she was. If Emelie needed anything, she was instantly there, and she tended to the baby with the same expression of reverence as when she went to church on Sunday. He was a miracle that the two of them shared.

  The baby slept in a basket next to Emelie’s bed. She could sit there for hours just looking at him as he slept with one tiny fist pressed against his cheek. Whenever his lips twitched, she imagined it was a smile, an expression of joy to be in this world.

  The clothes and blankets, which she and Dagmar had spent so many hours making, were now put to good use. They had to change the baby several times a day, and he was always clean and well fed. Emelie felt as if she and Dagmar and the boy were living in their own little world, without sorrows or worries. And she had decided on a name. He would be called Gustav, after her father. She didn’t even consider asking Karl first. Gustav was her son, hers alone.

  Karl hadn’t visited her even once during the time she had lived with Dagmar. But she knew that he must have been in Fjällbacka, because he and Julian had come to town as they always did. Although it was a relief not to have to see him, it hurt that she didn’t mean more to him.

  She had tried to talk to Dagmar about this, but she had shut down, as she always did whenever the conversation turned to Karl. She had again murmured that he hadn’t had an easy time of it, and that she didn’t want to get involved in the family’s affairs. Finally Emelie had given up. She would never understand her husband, but no matter what, she was going to have to endure the consequences. The pastor had said ‘until death do you part’, and that was how it would have to be. At least now she had something more than the others who had been her solace on the island. Now she had something real.

  Three weeks after Gustav’s birth, Karl came to fetch her. He hardly even glanced at his son. He merely stood in the front hall, looking impatient, and told her to pack her things. As soon as he and Julian were done buying supplies, they would be leaving for the island. And she and the baby would be coming with them.

  ‘Have you heard anything from my father about the boy? I wrote to him, but I haven’t received a reply,’ said Karl, looking at Dagmar. He sounded both anxious and eager, like a schoolboy wanting to please. Emelie’s heart softened a bit when she saw Karl looking so uncertain. She wished that she knew more and could understand what he was feeling.

  ‘He received your letter, and he is both pleased and satisfied.’ Dagmar hesitated. ‘He’s been worried, you know.’

  They exchanged a glance that Emelie couldn’t read as she stood there, holding Gustav in her arms.

  ‘Father has no reason to worry,’ said Karl hostilely. ‘Please give him my greetings.’

  ‘I’ll do that. But you must promise to take good care of your family.’

  Karl looked down at the floor.

  ‘Of course I will,’ he said, and then turned on his heel. ‘Be ready to leave in a hour,’ he added, speaking to Emelie over his shoulder.

  She nodded, but she could feel her throat closing up. Soon she would be back on Gråskär. She hugged Gustav close.

  19

  ‘Did she get hold of her?’ asked Gösta. He was still looking half-asleep.

  ‘She didn’t say. She just asked us to come to the office as soon as possible.’

  Patrik swore. There was a lot of traffic, and he had to keep changing lanes. When they reached the Refuge offices in Hisingen, he got out of the car and tugged at his shirt. It was soaked with sweat.

  ‘Come in,’ said Leila quietly when she met them at the door. ‘We’ll sit in the break room. It’s more comfortable than my office. I’ve made some coffee and sandwiches, in case you didn’t have time for breakfast.’

  They’d barely had time to eat anything before leaving for Göteborg, so Patrik and Gösta each reached for a roll after they sat down.

  ‘I hope Marie isn’t going to get into any sort of trouble over this,’ Patrik said. He’d forgotten to say anything yesterday, but when he’d gone to bed he couldn’t sleep because he was worrying that the poor, nervous young woman might lose her job after telling them about Madeleine.

  ‘Absolutely not. I take full responsibility. I should have told you myself, but my primary concern was for Madeleine’s safety.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Patrik. It still bothered h
im that they’d lost so much time, but he could see why Leila had acted as she did. And he never stayed angry for long.

  ‘Have you managed to get hold of her?’ he asked, finishing his sandwich.

  Leila hesitated. ‘I’m afraid we seem to have lost track of Madeleine.’

  ‘Lost track?’

  ‘Yes. We helped her to escape abroad. I probably don’t need to go into all the details, but it’s done in a way that will guarantee maximum security. At any rate, she and the children were installed in a flat. And now … now they seem to have left it.’

  ‘Left it?’ Patrik repeated.

  ‘Yes. According to our colleague who’s on the scene, the flat is empty, and the neighbour says that Madeleine and the children left yesterday. And they didn’t seem to have any plans to return.’

  ‘Where could they have gone?’

  ‘I suspect that they’ve come back to Sweden.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ asked Gösta. He reached for another roll.

  ‘She borrowed some money from the neighbour to buy train tickets. And she has nowhere else to go.’

  ‘But why come back, considering what’s waiting for her here?’ Gösta was talking with his mouth full, sending a shower of crumbs on to his lap.

  ‘I have no idea.’ Leila shook her head, and they saw the look of dismay on her face. She was clearly very upset. ‘You have to understand that it’s a matter of an extremely complex psychology. You might wonder why a woman doesn’t leave the first time she gets hit, but it’s more complicated than that. In the end, a form of interdependency exists between the batterer and the victim, and sometimes the woman doesn’t behave in a very rational way.’

  ‘Do you think she has gone back to her husband?’ asked Patrik in disbelief.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe she couldn’t take the isolation any longer and she was missing her family. Even though we’ve worked with these issues for years here at the crisis centre, we still don’t always understand how the women think. And they have to make their own decisions about their lives. They’re free to do as they wish.’